Category: Books

Recently, the topic of ‘Roald Dahl‘ came up in conversation in my house, in reference to a children’s book of his titled ‘The Twits’, with which I am unfamiliar. And that surprised me, because I considered myself a fan who grew up loving Dahl’s books; James and the Giant Peach, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and the epic sequel Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator. And a particular favorite, Danny the Champion of the World (published in 1975 when I was 10, I still have the copy I received for Christmas that year).

My daughter Colleen, also a huge Dahl fan, ran up to her room and returned with an armful of his books that I have never read including George’s Marvelous Medicine, The BFG, The Giraffe and the Pelly and Me, Matilda, and The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar.

I tweeted my surprise, and started reading. In the Wikipedia article on Roald Dahl, I found my explanation as to how I had missed these books. Each of them had been published after 1980, by which point I was in high school and I had seemingly turned to more age appropriate reading. Just once since then had I read a Dahl book, this one written for adults, My Uncle Oswald, a bawdy tale that predicts Viagara and sperm banks. It was a fun read, but I didn’t explore his adult books any further.

Yesterday I finished the third of these new (to me) books on the bus home, The BFG (which is of course short for Big Friendly Giant). And then in my evening web surfing I stumbled onto a coincidence, September 13th (Dahl’s Birthday) is recognized as Roald Dahl Day in the U.K. and around the World. And a day’s not really enough, so Dahl’s own web site claims September as Roald Dahl Month!

I’m happy for the fortuitous timing of my rediscovery, and a new pile of books of his I get to explore more than 35 years after my original introduction and enjoyment of his writing. Happy Roald Dahl Month to all!

Update – With a week left to go in Roahl Dahl month, today’s Washington Post reviewed a new biography about him. It looks like a great read.

‘Storyteller,’ Donald Sturrock’s authorized biography of Roald Dahl
The Washington Posts, 9/23/10

In his late forties, Henry McKenzie, now about to take coffee wit a nip of French brandy in it on his breezy veranda with a clear view of Mount Kenya, was a sound success at a task that had made drunks of some men and suicides of others.

The last sentence of Chapter One from my current read, ‘Something of Value

‘ by Robert Ruark

I’m still working on getting caught up on my book reports. I’m not sure why, but sharing some brief comments of some sort about what I’ve read here in my blog has become an important last step in my reading process. Maybe I just home to actually refer enough sales to Amazon to someday actually see some small check from them. But whatever… I digress.

Anyone who pays any attention to my reading list knows that I tend heavily to non-fiction. History, biography, and current events are my typical staples. I make a conscious effort to read more fiction, but to me, actual people and events usually capture my attention first. Truth can truly be stranger than fiction. But a good review in the Washington Post had put The Road by Cormac McCarthy on my list of books to look out for. And Oprah almost knocked it off. Not that I don’t imagine that Oprah and I could enjoy the same book. But I wouldn’t want to count myself among those who turn to her to tell me what to read. Thankfully, when I did pick up my copy, the Oprah sticker peeled off easily.

This is a very fast and dark read. It follows the wanderings of a father and his son, known only to the reader as ‘the man’ and ‘the boy’ as they wander through the horrors of a post apocalyptic America. They have only each other, and the few items and what foot they can scavenge. They use their tattered scraps of map to lead them towards the ocean, for which they hold some thin hope might be somehow nicer. But nice things are few and far between in the grim world they wander, and they daily have to consider the question if there is any reason left to go on.

I recommend the book highly to anyone. It’s not a happy book, but still one that’s hard to put down, like not being able to help looking when you drive past a car wreck, looking for something horrible and then regretting it if you actually see it. Everyone should take such a look at what things could be like if we allowed things to go so horribly wrong.

For the last few months I’ve been cramming on Ireland books in preparation for my recent visit there. And now that my trip has come and gone, I expect that although I’m sure to continue reading about Ireland, I will likely change subjects for a while. The Rebels of Ireland by Edward Rutherfurd was a good place to end my run of Ireland-themed reading. I had read much of Irish history to this point, but this piece of historical fiction tied centuries worth if Irish history together through the intertwined lives of several fictional families.

This is actually the second of a two-book series called The Dublin Saga and was preceded by The Princes of Ireland which I have yet to read. The Rebels of Ireland begins in 1597 and spans through the 1916 Easter Uprising and does a great job providing a glimpse at how the major events of Irish history during that timespan might have been experienced by families and individuals. For a hefty 850+ pages in this book, I found they turned very easily. I’ll look forward to backtracking and reading The Princes of Ireland, but maybe after just a brief break to mix up the reading list with some other subject matter for a bit.